Ed sat at a large round table in a clearing near the financial district, which was where the Village that had put out the summons had organized the meeting. They called themselves The Den of Wolves, or the Den, after the tribe of wolf-riding goblins they had eradicated.

He had traveled for a day, making his way down south from the northern suburbs of the city where his own Village was, alone but for Wutang’s company. Everyone else had critical roles in the Village, and Harundal would have complicated things with his very presence.

Ed mostly spent his time training with Harundal in which he familiarized himself with seeing the movements of manna and moving his own to empower his movements, or meditating upon his new class trait and skill. In other words, his most important duty as the leader of the village was to get stronger and collect information to make the best decisions.

In addition to Ed, representatives from two other Villages had shown up.

They called their villages The Vault and The Pit.

Ed suppressed the desire to immediately name his own The Monkey Village. He would have to consult the rest of the Village first.

The Vault was placed in the ruin of a large museum in the western district. The Pit was placed in the ruins of a prison from the eastern district, and consisted primarily of the inmates who had been isolated enough to survive the collapse of society and avoid the full attention of goblins and wildlife.

Ed must have betrayed some of the alarm that he felt, because the Den reaffirmed their decision to invite the Pit to the meeting, stressing humanity’s need to present a united front against the interdimensional invaders.

Mustafa, the representative of The Den, was a charismatic man in his forties who carried himself with a casual confidence. A pair of men and women stood behind him, somehow managing to look severely professional while clothed in black pelts and looking like characters from straight out of a fantasy novel.

Mustafa walked back to his chair, having introduced himself to all the attendees, and eased into it gracefully.

“So. Can I safely assume that you are all here because you are all onboard with the plan of eradicating the goblins from our formerly beautiful city?”

Ed nodded curtly, his gaze sharpening as the other leaders assenting with nods and and grunts as well.

He had been happy to see other powerful humans had survived and were even thriving. Despite the initial round of smiles and introductions, however, the seriousness of the situation and context for the meeting loomed in his mind.

They were all Lords, he presumed, who were responsible for the lives of hundreds of people. Ed was sure that they had all seen the ugliness and selfishness that humans were capable of in chaotic times such as these.

“I don’t know about you young ones, but this bag of bones will be sleeping much more peacefully once there are no threats within the city limits at least.” said Mikhail.

Mikhail and Alexander were representatives of the Vault. An elderly man with a luxurious silver mane and a curator for the museum, Mikhail’s gaze gleamed sharply with intelligence from behind his spectacles. Alexander, his blonde grandson who had the tall and sturdy build of a long time athlete, stood silently behind him. Surprisingly, Alexander wore a full plate of steel armor as well as a shield and longsword. Mikhail himself had multiple rings adorning his fingers, as well as a golden staff topped with a minature cross.

Either he had had an extremely generous Blessing, or the Vault somehow had access to steel weapons, Ed considered. He would inquire privately after the meeting, but somehow he doubted that it wouldn’t come up.

Juan, the representative of The Pit, had been eyeing Mikhail and Alexander with a quiet thoughtfulness since the beginning of the meeting.

He was a surprisingly young man, black hair slicked back with oil and had been smiling gently the whole time. He had no tattoos, though the two towering men behind him did. The two bodyguards had numerous and presumably gang-related tattoos that extended to their shaven heads, and would give Ranga a run for his money in terms of musculature. They stood silently behind their seated leader, arms across their chest.

Ed had a white monkey on his shoulder. For moral support. Wutang paid no attention to the proceedings, focused on gnawing a particularly hard nut he had pulled out from seemingly nowhere.

“You said that the Tribe downtown number in the thousands. Surely you have some sort of plan.” Juan said. Something his sleek voice and gentle cadence told Ed that he was not a man to be trifled with.

“He’s right. Though the Blesseds could take on dozens of goblins on their own, even a dozen of us could hardly be expected to take on a thousand goblins.” Ed commented.

Mustafa grinned roguishly. Ed was starting to like the man, despite his seemingly unfounded confidence.

“I’ve been in contact with the Vault for a while now, and have negotiated an agreement with them. They’ll provide the army of the alliance with steel and iron weapons, but only if we decide to strike. Even the regular humans now have classes, and armed with steel and iron weapons? One simply Awakened human would be able to take on a couple of goblins with ease.”

Juan chuckled slightly, a rather gentle rattle that ended in a hiss. Ed realized what about Juan put him on guard. Juan reminded him of a snake, poised to strike at the drop of a hat.

“Interesting. And how have you procured these steel and iron weapons? The high density of manna should have wrecked all man-made metals. That’s how we got out from behind the bars, you know.”

Mikhail gently adjusted his spectacles.

“I was a curator and archivist for the museum before the rifts opened. It seems that the some of the artifacts that were forged hundreds and thousands of years ago are a lot more resilient in higher densities of manna than the tools that we have built in recent years. Either way, it's clear that the historical heritage of humanity has suddenly become a lot more useful.”

Juan and Ed fell deathly silent, considering the implications.

“It’s likely not a question of material, then, but perhaps the method of manufacturing, or the density or imbuement of manna during their forging, that saved them. It seems that artifacts with historical significance were also more likely to survive than others. The artifacts with substiated stories have an energy, an essence of sorts, that I am able to feel due to my class. My guess is that these artifacts have been gradually accumulating the ambient manna, finally 'Awakening' around the time that The System was implemented.”

Ed resisted the urge to let his eyes blaze yellow right then and there, consequences be damned. The villagers had let him know that they could sometimes feel when the Dao was being used on them, and that it was not often a pleasant sensation. Noel and Ranga apparently felt it every time, and described the feeling as even more unpleasant.

“Perhaps I can examine some of these… artifacts? I will be able to confirm what you say is true.” he choked out instead, smothering his excitement with a deep breath.

Wordlessly, Alexander pulled a ring from a pouch on his belt and tossed it to Ed.

It seemed they were prepared for such a question. Ed caught the golden ring, feeling as though it was a burning thing, and his Dao of True Sight blazed to life.

Ring of the Templar

An old ring that was once worn by an accomplished Templar.

Provides slight enhancement to the Body and Spirit of the wearer.

It wasn't much, but Ed could also see a glimmer of essence within the ring as well. As thin as a wire, the small bit of essence still gently pulsed with a gentle, golden light that infused the rest of the ring with some sort of manna he'd never seen before.

“We don’t have an endless amount of artifacts, of course, but we do have quite a lot. We’ve been digging through the ruins for weeks, but there are still some left to be discovered, I’m sure..” Mikhail grinned, enjoying Ed’s stunned silence.

Mustafa just laughed.

“And so you see. We’re more than certain that we’ll be able to eradicate the First Tribe if we were able to field a large enough force against them.”

“And you’ll just… share these with us?” Juan asked suddenly, eyes glinting.

Brushing back his silver mane of hair, Mikhail replied gently.

“While the Den is the most proximal and therefore most motivated to see the goblins gone, it is obvious that the goblins are no friends of humans. The Vault’s weapons will be distributed fairly and permanently, granted that everyone contributes to the alliance equally. We only ask for the first, ah... pick, of the goblins and their own artifacts. We have reason to believe that they have been granted Blessings of their own.”

“Mustafa. If you could demonstrate?”

Mustafa nodded, and gripped a necklace that rested upon his chest. Shadows spilled out of the man, and formed into a pair of wolves that stood at his side.

Wutang and Juan’s two bodyguards had stirred, but Ed hadn’t moved. Mustafa hadn’t shown any intent of attacking. Juan also remained still, slight interest playing across his face.

“This is an artifact that I claimed from the leader of the goblins. A Blessing of Rukultuth, who is, according to the System, a god of the goblins.”

Had Mustafa incurred the wrath of a goblin god as well? His situation with the Dagger of Hekamuth seemed rather unique, as his rather unhealthy connection to Hekamuth would be growing stronger with every Blood Crystal he consumed if not for Wutang. No other Blessing he had encountered so far provided or strengthened a connection with the deity that had bestowed it, as far as he was aware.

“I understand that this is a lot to take in, but a decision must be made soon. More and more of the goblins are turning in to ‘hobs’, evolved and stronger versions of themselves. We believe they are gathering strength for an all out cleansing of the city and the wildlife.” Mustafa said, scratching the head of one of the black wolves. They were the size of large dogs, though the predatory intelligence behind their eyes promised a more... primal nature.

“So be it then.” Juan said casually. “The Pit will provide a hundred fighters to the cause. Twenty will have classes, combat-oriented.”

Ed bit back a gulp. A hundred people willing and able to fight a goblin tribe numbering in the thousands? That was the size of his entire Village. His own Village had about thirty fighting men and women who had chosen the Hunter class. There were about as many Crafters, with some of the villagers not yet having reached the required stats and activity requirements (which were not always clear, but apparantly had to do with quantity and quality of time spent engaging in activities related to the relevant class) necessary for either classes.

Mustafa seemed a bit surprised, but still let out a small laugh before replying.

“Wonderful! We weren’t sure how many of your, ah... villagers, had survived or were in fighting condition, but a hundred warriors would contribute greatly! I’m sure Mikhail would be able to provide some arms for you.”

Mikhail looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Well, there certainly wouldn't be enough to arm every warrior with more than one artifact, since the Den and The Vault will be fielding fifty fighters each, with about ten classers from each Village. Especially since we don't know how many fighters the young gentleman over there would be willing to bring…” He trailed off, glancing at Ed.

“Thirty warriors, all with a combat class.” Ed said, making a decision.

Either way, this was his best chance to gain as many of these ‘artifacts’ as possible while eradicating an immediate threat from Hekamuth. While not as many, it seemed he would be bringing the most classes. He had no idea how the other Villages kept their people fed, or how they trained, but the Hunters of his Village almost exclusively hunted, sparred, and otherwise trained in combat. The division of labor was clear, in his Village, and so had apparantly led to a rather high number of classers.

Mustafa nodded, a bit less enthused than when Juan had spoken, but still obviously enthused at the prospect of a fair sized force of classers.

“Great! Thirty classers would be a great asset, and we’ll continue to coordinate so that their strengths will be utilized correctly.”

“And Two Blessds, including myself, as well as an orc named Harundal. A Duruk, to be exact.” Ed continued, smiling fiercely.

He shouldered the lives of his village. Though they had not been with him for long, he saw the way that they saved the best bits of food for him, gently tiptoed around his tent when he was meditating. They loved him, and for that, he would let his blood spill out dry before he let any one of them die.

Mustafa and Mikhail exchanged a glance while Juan simply gazed at Ed, black orbs that betrayed no emotions. A single Blessed was worth a dozen, if not dozens of Awakened humans. As for a Duruk… The band of orcs had seemingly left the city a while ago when the Villages had formed and the goblins had retreated. It had been a great cause for celebration when their scouts had confirmed this.

Ed wasn’t sure exactly how common Blesseds were, but the only other Blesseds he had met in the months that the System had been implemented were Noel, Ranga, and Derek.

“And this monkey.” He added, almost as an after-thought.

Wutang let out an indignant screech and grabbed a handful of Ed’s hair to shake, though he ignored the monkey and kept a straight face. He would just be encouraging his behavior if he responded.

Mustafa did not hide his mischievous grin, while Alexander, who had been staring stony faced the entire time, was struggling to keep a smile off his face. Mikhail chuckled, while Juan continued smiling politely.

Ed grinned and leaned back.

“So, when do we attack?”